Tell Me More
by BluePeople
Summary: The Count is finally ready to talk about what's wrong. This is a dialog between vK and his therapist - and it's not that cracky, believe it or not.


**A/N: This fic takes the view that in order to transform into a vampire, you have to get bit _and _you have to drink some vampire blood yourself. I realize that's not the method shown in the show, but it's the method stuck in my head, so too bad.**

* * *

"Hi. Good afternoon, Count. Please come in, have a seat. How was your week?"

"The same as every week that has gone before it."

"Count."

***sigh.*** "It was all right."

"I'm glad to hear it. Now, there's something I wanted to tell you this week."

"Yes?"

"I've recently decided that I'm going to retire in a year or two. It's not at all imminent, but still, I wanted to let you know."

"No. I will pay you whatever you ask to continue meeting with me."

"… I'm flattered that you value me so highly, Count, but I'm not sure that would work for me. I'm quite old. Someday I will want all my time to be spent with my family, my grandchildren… but I'll think it over. And of course, at a minimum we still have the next year. Perhaps longer. That's why I'm telling my clients so far in advance."

"…"

"Count?"

"Well… in that case… if my time is limited… I think perhaps I should begin to talk about why I first came to you. I apologize for requiring so much of your patience."

"You don't need to apologize. It takes time. Many people don't feel comfortable talking about their most serious problems with a therapist they've only just met."

"It has been half a year."

"Well… yes, I admit you're one of the warier ones."

"The wariest?"

"Not yet."

"Good. Well. Hm. I've never spoken about it before. To anyone."

"Mm-hm."

"And I'm not sure I can."

"Part of your goal in coming here was to learn how to cope with memories that upset you. Do you remember telling me that?"

"Of course I remember. I remember _everything._ That is part of the problem; the memories that torture me never fade. They're as fresh now as when… I apologize."

"There's really no rush. We have all the time we need."

***snort*** "Yes. Time is the one thing I will always have. All right. Yes, on other occasions I've spoken to you about painful subjects, you've been very helpful and afterwards my pain has lessened. At least a little, at least sometimes."

"I'm glad to hear that. Go on."

"I-. Hm. Would you help me? I hardly know where to begin."

"All right. Was it something specific that drove you to seek counseling?"

"Yes."

"Something that happened recently, or some memory that's bothering you?"

"A memory."

"In general terms, a memory of what?"

"Of… of transforming… into a vampire."

"Of your transforming into a vampire?"

"No. It is a memory of transforming _someone else_ into a vampire. I see it… over and over."

"Ah, I see. I understand. Well, let's start with what you can tell me that's _not_ upsetting. I don't actually know much about vampires, so the best I can do is assume: it's done by biting?"

"Yes. Well… partly, yes."

"Please educate me."

"It's simple: you bite someone, you give them your blood, and you lock them up afterwards. The locking up is necessary because vampires are generally completely insentient during the day, but for the first few days after transformation the body sometimes becomes restless and sleepwalks. If it sleepwalks into the sun, the new vampire will die."

"_Give them your blood?_ How's that done?"

"…"

"What's the matter?"

"You find the sore spots very quickly."

"I think you would feel cheated if I didn't; you pay me by the hour after all."

***laughter***

"How is it done?"

"There are many ways. Any way that gets your blood into them."

"Tell me one way."

"You can… well, the obvious one, I suppose, would be to cut yourself and instruct the person to drink. That's one way."

"All right. Tell me another."

"Well, if you're transforming a lover, you can cut your own mouth on your fangs. And then kiss the person."

"That's all it takes? Just a few drops?"

"No, it would be… more than a few drops. We heal quickly, remember. I understand you're to puncture your own tongue all the way through, or slice the inside of your cheek until the blood flows free."

"I see. Interesting. So, you can transfer blood through a kiss. But that isn't how you did it."

"No. Unfortunately."

"Why unfortunately?"

"Because a kiss is better than some other ways."

"All right… tell me another way."

"No."

"Keeping the story to yourself all these years doesn't seem to have done you much good."

"I know. I know. All right: you can-… you can bite your lip. Tear through it, here."

"Hey – be careful. I don't care how quickly you heal, I don't want you hurting yourself."

"And then you… Here – may I?"

"Oh-. Um. Yes – but gently."

"This. And squeeze."

"So… you take the person by the jaw, and apply pressure to force the mouth open. I'm with you so far."

"And then …"

"Go on."

"Then you hold the person still... And you spit into his mouth. You do it more than once. You use your hand to… so he can't spit it back out again. You slap him hard to keep him compliant. If his lip splits, you might drink from it. Your mouth is full of his blood and yours, and you spit it back onto him. Getting it in his mouth, in his wound, infecting him for certain. If he asks _why _and cries, you snarl at him, except you're drooling blood and you terrify him to total incoherency. The look in his eyes… will never leave you."

"I see."

"…"

"Take your time."

"Thank you. … So. So, that is another way it could be done."

"How many times have you transformed somebody in that manner?"

"Once. Just once. The only-."

"Herbert?"

"…"

"Here – I have tissues in here somewhere. Hold on… Here."

"Thank you."

"All right: tell me more. You've mentioned Herbert before to me, a number of times. You were friends."

"Friends and more." ***snort*** "Not like that. Though not for lack of trying on his part."

"But it was you who transformed him?"

"Yes."

"Did you transform him against his will?"

"I-I don't…"

"Let me rephrase. It sounds from your description like he struggled, and I'm sure that must have been confusing at the time, and unpleasant to remember. What I meant was, had Herbert expressed an interest in becoming a vampire at some time prior to your biting him?"

"Yes. He asked, he begged, so many times. Ever since he understood what was wrong with me."

"But you refused him at first. For how long?"

"It was… at least a year. Two years perhaps."

"Why?"

"Why did I refuse? Because I liked him. I didn't want to drag him down with me… into Hell, he didn't understand it no matter how many times I tried to explain. He wouldn't listen. And still he wanted it."

"And so at last you gave it to him."

"I was tired of hearing him say things that… that weren't true. I was angry. I was… beside myself with anger. I attacked him and fed on him and then… transformed him as I described. Out of anger. It tortures me to remember that. One moment."

"Of course. You're doing very well. Here – tissue. Now, tell me one detail you remember from that night. The first image you think of."

"My hand. In his hair. It's how I was holding him still."

"Mm-hm…"

"I just… later, sometimes, years later, he'd move in some particular way and I would just… remember. I could _feel _it, his hair. Like silk… I remember yanking, and he was so afraid… and I was towering over him and yanking down… I don't know."

"That came to your mind often, afterwards?"

"Not _often, _perhaps, but often enough."

"And you tried not to dwell on it."

"Exactly. I wished to forget the whole thing, as best I could. Though as I have said, I have no great ability to forget."

"Mm. You said you spat on him. Repeatedly. That's a powerful gesture. Do you remember why you did it?"

"No. I was enraged. I don't know."

"Is it something you thought about afterwards, like the hair pulling?"

"Yes. For a while, every time I saw blood… every time I bit someone and saw them with their throats torn open… I remembered him, lying there covered in… mine … staring up at me thinking _why_?"

"We usually spit on things to show contempt."

"I know – I _know_. And I don't feel that way about Herbert, I never did. I wouldn't _want _to treat him that way, I don't know why I-… it was awful."

"Did you ever talk about it, afterwards? Even much later?"

"Never. I think he knew how much it would distress me. When he came to after the transformation was complete, I'd been crying all night. He could see it; I looked like-… well, look at me!"

"Mm. When you've been crying, it shows."

"And he called me _Papa, _and he hugged me, and he said thank you."

"For how long?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"For how long did he hug you?"

"Until-… until dawn drove us underground. Maybe two hours. Maybe more."

"And was that usual, for him to show you that kind of affection? Or – rather – was it usual for you to accept it?"

"That was the only time. In all our years. Though again, not for lack of trying on his part. How did you know?"

"I watch and I listen. So, in the end, though you never spoke about it, it seemed Herbert didn't hold a grudge?"

"He didn't seem to. I feel ill about it."

"Did you always? Or only recently?"

"Only since Herbert…"

"Only since Herbert what?"

"Very well: died. I first came to you because Herbert _died_. I didn't say so at once because I was afraid you would want me to discuss him, and I didn't think I could. He was my constant companion, for twice what you would call a lifetime. I never understood how he could be as devoted as he was. But then I never understood how he could be as selfish as he was."

"Tell me more. Intelligent?"

"Very. But also a fool, sometimes."

"And affectionate, it sounds like?"

***snort*** "Herbert would call himself a _lover. _But he was an unbelievable cad. He used to-… ah..."

"Used to what?"

"… I'm sorry, but I can't. Thinking of Herbert is too difficult. He was everything to me. I always thought he lived in my shadow, only now that he's gone I realize he was the brightest light in my life and I literally _do not know how _to go on living without him. In fact, I'm not certain I can."

"…"

"You're thinking. I see you thinking. What are you thinking?"

"Nothing. Only that this doesn't surprise me, Count – I suspected something like this might be the case."

"How?"

"You've spoken a lot to me about loneliness, but you don't sound like someone who has lived a solitary life. I guessed that you'd had a companion, and lost her. Or him. I'm very sorry to hear it."

"You'll be sorrier once you hear what I've been thinking about for the past few weeks."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I've noticed that talking to you has helped me. I am glad to have you to talk to. And it has occurred to me… but please don't be alarmed; it's only a stray thought and I have been fighting it… It's occurred to me that perhaps I ought to transform you."

"…_?_"

***sigh.*** "Yes, I realize that my timing could have been better. This is probably not something you care to hear so soon after I've described the violent and traumatizing way I transformed Herbert."

"…"

**_*bing.*_**

"Oh-! My hour's up. All right, well… as always, thank you. See you next week."

"…"

* * *

**The End.**

(Yes, this has become cracktastic enough that I kind of want to continue it, but I think this poor therapist has had enough.)


End file.
